Salutations and Greetings
by HATEmach1ne
Summary: Sarah leaves Chuck, only to meet him a year and a half later. Who is he now and what is he doing? Read to find out.
1. Goodbye

_Disclaimer: Standard stuff. Still don't own Chuck._

_A/N: Here's another story for you guys as I deal with writer's block for Ibis. Have fun reading this one._

**Salutations and Greetings**

**Goodbye**

"_I'm so sorry, Chuck. I have to go."_

_Leaning forward, she catches his lips again, maybe for the last time. He doesn't respond, his lips slack at the contact._

"_Goodbye, Chuck."_

_Hearing no response, she turns around and walks down the sidewalk, leaving him in the growing darkness of the courtyard. As she walks by the fountain, the soft gurgling triggers flashbacks to their fountain talks. She remembers them all and they all reside in her heart. Her ears register the sound of a fist meeting a wall, the crack piercing the silence of the night. She continues to make her way out of the apartment complex, and out of the life of one Chuck Bartowski, whatever life there still is._

_Stopping outside the archway, she takes one last look back and whispers once more, "Goodbye, Chuck. I'll always remember you."_

_Tears begin to flood her eyes and she hops into the car. Soon enough, driving becomes too hard and she pulls over to cry her heart out for the person she has left behind._

_After what feels like hours, she is composed enough to drive herself to the airport._

_Boarding the airplane to Langley, she looks down at the tarmac of LAX and whispers, "Goodbye," for the final time._

***

Making a mad dash, she manages to cover herself up behind a toppled-over filing cabinet. Releasing the magazine, she picks it up, checking the number of rounds left. Three rounds, three measly rounds are all she has. Cursing inwardly, she slaps the ammunition back in, the magazine release clicking as she racks the chamber. Her ears perk up as she listens to the scuffling of footsteps and her partner scrambles to take cover behind another filing cabinet on her right.

Looking over to her partner, she yells over the sound of gunshots peppering the surface of her hiding spot, "How many rounds you got left?"

She watches her partner release the magazine and check the number of rounds.

He yells back, "Half a mag? You?"

"Three."

"Well, it was good knowing you Sarah.

"It's time to go big or get dead. Good knowing you too, Bryce."

Putting her hand up, she begins to lift her fingers, one at a time. The first finger raises up, each of them taking deep breaths for their up coming end. The second finger raises up, each of them taking a last look at the other before each move to face forward. The third finger rises up, and a sniper shot rings out of the air. Both immediately drop back down, trying to hide from the enemy sniper.

Another shot comes, and another. Their ear pieces crackle to life, the ear pieces registering the raspy voice of a man.

"This is Eagle One providing sniper support. Sorry for the late backup. Eagle Two will be there in a couple seconds to bail you out. Stay behind cover, let us handle this."

Sniper shot after sniper shot is heard as enemy agents begin to fall like flies. A large explosion erupts into the side of the building, revealing a tall, muscular man in tactical gear holding a Colt M4A1 Assault Rifle.

"This is Eagle Two. Side penetrated, continuing to eliminate enemy personnel."

"Roger that, Eagle Two. You got two friendly's in the back behind the toppled over filing cabinets. Get them out alive."

"Affirmative. Intel Acknowledged."

"Tango, down."

"Target Eliminated."

The two agents in the back listen in rap attention as the two men continue to take out enemy agents one after another. Judging from what is happening, it looks like one is picking them off with a sniper while the other goes CQC. The gunshots begin to cease as enemies start to dwindle down.

"This is Eagle Two. All clear from ground floor."

"Eagle One, reporting. All clear from here as well. Get out of there quickly, LEO's on the way. I'll meet you at the rendezvous point."

A motorcycle engine is heard through the crackling of the ear piece as it guns off to the meeting point.

Eagle Two makes his way over to the filing cabinets, moving bodies of enemy agents to clear room. Poking and prodding, he confirms that they are all dead. Looking up, he finds both Agents guns up, both pointed at him.

Ripping off the balaclava he is wearing, he grunts angrily, "I just saved you two, and this is what I get? Maybe I should have just left you and your boytoy to die, Walker."

Both Agents stare at the hulking, 6'4, Major John Casey in full tactical gear. The gun rests against his chest, bouncing as he continues his movement towards them.

"Come on, time to ask questions later. We got LEO's on the way and that wouldn't be very good now would it? Move your asses."

Turning his back, he moves towards the exit, the other two agents staring at his receding back. Both of them look at each other, confusion written over both. Following the hulking man, they walk outside to find a black van, a brunette behind the wheel and Casey sitting on the passenger side. They converse, both laughing and Sarah had never seen that much ease in the hulking man before.

"Open up and get inside, we don't have all day."

Acknowledging his command, they slide open the side door and hop into the back, both going over themselves. Casey tosses a first-aid kit into the back, hoping they'll put it to good use.

Tired of wondering what is going, Sarah asks, "Casey, what's going on?"

"Got the call from Beckman to go bail your asses out of trouble. Apparently you guys have been dropping the ball way too much."

Sarah ask the question they both knew was coming, "How is he Casey?"

"You'll see."

All she can do is wonder at his cryptic answer. As her wonder dies down, she looks towards the brunette. She's pretty with straight brown hair that falls in locks. She's wearing thick framed glasses which frame her face perfectly, giving her face the smart girl look.

Looking over at Bryce, she finds him putting on the charms and all she can do is roll her eyes at his antics. Any of his attempts at her were shot down, the reason being that she can't really think of anyone else but _him_.

"So Casey, who's your partner?" Bryce asks, turning on the charm.

"Agent Rachel Locke, and Larkin, you're disgusting. Go find somebody else to play with," she rebuffs him, disgust written all over her voice.

"Atta girl, put the boy down," Casey praises, chuckling at the same time.

Sarah laughs at the rebuff Bryce had gotten. Looking over at him, his eyes smolder and crash as he is rejected. She continues to enjoy the sight of him dejected, angry, and embarrassed. The silence keeps on all the way to the rendezvous point.

***

Finally reaching their destination, a two-story old Victorian house, they pull into the garage, finding the motorcycle they heard earlier. A white Ducati 1198 sits in the garage, its rider sitting on top of it, waiting for the black van to pull in. Looking at the figure, she still sees he is in a balaclava, face obscured by the mask.

She can see the green sniper rifle on his back, Beretta M9s in thigh holsters on each leg. His long legs straddle the bike and as he looks up to find the van, he swings a leg over and walks into the house, removing the balaclava to reveal a head of curly brown hair.

Her eyes reveal her underlying emotions, her eyes dilating at the site of the hair. As soon as the van stops, she hops out, hoping to catch up to him.

Maneuvering her way through the home, she finds an open door and peers inside to find him sitting in a chair, back turned towards the door. The R700 sniper rifle sits on the bed, the pistols still at the side of his leg. His hands are resting on his legs, his body a picture of nonchalance while she is a ball of swirling emotions. She stands there for a minute, taking in the sight of him like an ambrosia. He finally turns around, his face devoid of emotion, a scar across his forehead, no doubt from a knife. She chokes up as she looks at him, his face all torn up by all the fights he has been in.

His eyes have changed the most though. The normal, once joyful brown eyes have become sunken and dark, ebony in its appearance. The eyes dart back and forth, always analyzing and always scanning for danger, far from the trusting and endearing brown eyes she is use to seeing.

"Get out."

She looks up at his words, finding his face still void of emotions, but his eyes tell of the raw emotion behind the mask.

She chooses to say silent, prompting him to tell her again to leave.

"Get out."

"I'm so sorry, Chuck."

"Get out."

True to the saying, "third times the charm," she leaves, leaving him alone to his rabid thoughts and emotions. Running into the restroom, she lets loose a sob, which is followed by another, then another, until it is full out crying. Tears begin to fall like rain, dropping onto the floor with a splash. Leaning over the sink, she manages to turn on the water and wash her face clear of ruined makeup and tears.

Walking out into the living room, she finds a lone Casey sitting at the dining table, Rachel no where in sight.

"How are you doing, Casey?"

He responds with a grunt, the indication quite clear.

She just looks at him quizzically, not understanding his intent. Rolling his eyes, he stands up and waves his hand towards himself, indicating that she should follow. Walking towards the back of the kitchen, he opens the sliding door, leading her into the garden, fruits and vegetables abundant.

Moving towards a table in the back, they sit down, a silence between them.

"Now that we have some privacy, how are you Walker?"

"I'm…fine."

He grunts, not trusting her answer. He tilts his head to the side, indicating that he can tell she is lying.

With a sigh, she admits, "I've definitely been better."

"What do you think of him?" Casey questions, eyes cocked, ready for her answer.

"I don't know what to think. How is he an Agent, Casey? The Chuck I know can't even harm a fly."

"Well, the Chuck you know now can kill a full grown human being quite easily," Casey quips, earning him a hard glare.

Clearing his throat nervously, he begins, "Well…it all started when…"

_A/N: Being sick really sucks. I have the stomach flu and yeah, I've been vomiting and running to the restroom only God knows how many times. Try to stay clean and healthy guys! Hope you enjoyed and R&R._


	2. Goodnight

_Disclaimers: Standard stuff once again. I don't own anything._

_A/N: As some of you have pointed out, the first chapter is similar to sdchuckfan's "Sarah vs. the Collapse," which I loved, a lot. Love all his stories. So, I present to you the next chapter of Salutations and Greetings._

**Salutations and Greetings**

**Goodnight**

"What do you think of him?" Casey questions, eyes cocked, ready for her answer.

"I don't know what to think. How is he an Agent, Casey? The Chuck I know can't even harm a fly."

"Well, the Chuck you know now can kill a full grown human being quite easily," Casey quips, earning him a hard glare.

Clearing his throat nervously, he begins, "Well….it all started when…"

***

_**Echo Park, California**_

_**Casa Bartowski**_

_**August 14, 2008**_

_**8:00 PM**_

_Casey watched as Bartowski smacks the wall repeatedly, his knuckle splitting more and more at each contact. A crimson river of blood trickles down the wall, leaving streaks of ominous red. The last crack is the loudest yet; his hand stays there for a good three minutes before he withdraws it and walks into the house. _

_Switching cameras, he watches the interior as he walks straight past his sister Ellie and into his bedroom, blood freefalling from his fist. Switching cameras once again, he looks into the room, finding him in the connecting bathroom washing all the blood off his fingers. His eyes scan the small room, finding a pistol laying there right next to his right hand. Casey watches in wonder at what Bartowski can be doing with a gun._

_Watching him walk out of the bathroom, he watches him grab his keys, stuff the gun into the back of his waistband and reach into his closet. Casey watches in interest as his asset looks for something in the closet, hopefully something that is not another gun. His hand finally stops moving, unhooking a key from the back of the closet and he hooks it onto his key chain. Moving out of the house and past a screaming Ellie and a concerned Devon, he makes his way outside into the cool night air. _

_He stops right where the blood is and takes a side glance at it, his head barely turning. His face grimaces, but he quickly schools it and continues his walk outside into the night. Quickly putting on a coat and pants, Casey moves to follow his asset, soon to be fish-fry if he isn't watched. Moving behind his asset, thirty yards as the usual, he watches his asset cross a couple streets and into the heart of the city. Turning the corner, he finds that it's a dead end, with no Bartowski in sight. Turning around, he finds a gun barrel pressed to the side of his temple, the cold steel chilling him to the bone._

_Casey closes his eyes, ready for the bullet, metaphorical or real, whichever, that is going to take his life. The gun barrel is withdrawn from his forehead, and a raw voice answers him, far from the warm and inviting voice of Chuck Bartowski. This voice belonged to a ghost._

_Voice raw and scratchy, he addressed the shaken Casey, "Casey, don't ever follow me like that again. Got it?"_

_All Casey can do is nod at the man before him, totally changed and dark in a span of two hours._

"_What do you want Casey?"_

"_I'm just looking after you. With that wall meet fist charade, you've become a wild card."_

_Chuck can only scoff and shake his head as Casey laid the words on the table._

"_I've always been a wild card. You just haven't seen me."_

_The words chill Casey to the bone, the voice cold and calculating, always knowing the thing to say._

_Biting back, Casey retorts, "So, is this what you do after every girl leaves you? You punch walls and become a wild card?"_

_Apparently Casey knew how to say the wrong thing because in the next instant, he is flat on his stomach, Bartowski's knee impaled on his back, keeping him there. He can feel Bartowski's hand on his right cheek, keeping his face pinned to the ground._

"_Casey, you're messing with the wrong person here. Don't think I don't know how to defend myself. Don't try to smart talk your way out of this."_

_Bartowski finally lets him up and he watches Bartowski exits the alley, continuing his walk in the night. Swiftly moving to catch up with him, Bartowski doesn't even acknowledge his existence, but Casey knows he knows he's there. Winding their way through the city, he stops at a car garage and extracts one of the keys off his key chain and inserts it into the garage lock._

_He turns it and a click is heard, signaling it unlock. Stooping over, he reaches for the door handle and pulls it up, revealing a white Ducati 1198 motorcycle. Casey stares at the beauty and slender Italian bike, sleek and smooth. Bartowski stands up and admires it for a second, then walks over and begins to drag his hand all over it, getting use to the feel and checking for problems. _

_Finding none, he hops on, pulling on a helmet and tossing Casey another. Looking down at the helmet, he figures out what is going to happen._

"_No way, I am not riding on the back."_

"_Either that or you walk home Casey. Which one will it be Casey? Remember Casey, I'm a wild card now, you should always keep an eye on me," he says, mocking Casey's words from earlier._

_Grunting in defeat, he puts on the helmet and hops onto the back, and slowly, with disgust, puts his arms around Bartowski's stomach. Bartowski guns out of the parking lot, finding his way home in a couple of minutes. Finally, the ride is over and Casey can get away from Bartowski and his hellhound riding. Jumping off, Casey makes his retreat into the apartment to get away from Bartowski for a couple more hours._

_His laugh sardonic, he chuckles and talks into the night air, "Goodnight, wherever you are."_

_Whipping off the gloves, he looks into the night and straight at the moon and sighs. He makes his retreat to Casa Bartowski, shutting the Morgan Door with a click. Sighing, he falls onto the bed and looks to his left, finding something very familiar. It's his guitar._

_Casey returns to his computer screen to watch, a TV dinner in hand with fork in mouth. He watches as Bartowski picks up the acoustic guitar and begins to play._

_His fingers move lithely over the strings, creating a perfect harmony of sound that elicits a euphoria he hasn't felt in so long. He takes refuge in the sounds and he soon drifts off to his own guitar playing._

_Casey finds himself in tears at the end, his asset lost in the night without anybody there for him. With his one constant gone, who knows what would happen to the kid. Until then, Casey would watch over Chuck, making sure he is safe._

_***_

_**Echo Park, California**_

_**Casa de Casey**_

_**August 15, 2008**_

_**9:00 AM**_

_Putting on the disgusting green uniform, he walks into the living room to find Bartowski already waiting with Beckman on screen. The two are conversing and Casey manages to catch, "Agent Bartowski," which immediately brings him to attention. Bartowski and Beckman notice Casey standing off to the side listening to the conversation. The two stop chatting, allowing Casey to jump in._

_Without a misstep they continue, "With the departure of Agent Walker, we will begin training Mr. Bartowski. He will be put into the CIA payroll and employed under the CIA. Take the next two months to train him Major Casey, no missions in between unless it requires your expertise. If no other questions, then you're dismissed."_

_When no questions are had, she disconnects the link and smiles, finally having her weapon in play. Casey turns to Bartowski, finding that he was already gone. He walks outside and watches Bartowski hop onto his bike and speed off towards the Buy More, leaving Casey in the dust._

_Sighing, he walks into the kitchen and takes out the keys to his Ford Vic. Walking out to the car, he swings the door open, takes a seat and puts the key in the ignition. The sound of the car engine puts him as ease as he pulls out of the driveway and into LA rush hour._

_**Los Angeles, California**_

_**Fulcrum Warehouse**_

_**October 17, 2008**_

_**10:00 PM**_

"_Are you sure you're ready for this?"_

"_Why wouldn't I be Casey?" he says, sarcasm dripping from his voice._

'_Cocky as ever,' Casey thinks._

_This new Bartowski is confident, smooth, and nonchalant, the picture of a perfect agent. He watches as Bartowski exits the vehicle and moves into the building he is so supposed to be infiltrating. Watching from his lapel cam, he watches him stealthily put away two guards with hand to hand combat. He continues his way through the building, stealing information while taking out enemy personnel all over the building._

_Finally appearing in the night, he runs over to the car and hops in and they fly off. Finally a safe distance away, Bartowski turns to Casey._

"_Am I ready?"_

"_Yeah, you are."_

_The rest of the ride is in silence, both the men acknowledging the other's silence. When they step outside and into the apartment complex, Bartowski turns to Casey once more._

"_Goodnight, Casey."_

_No answer comes back, so Bartowski leaves._

_Finally able to look up, he stares straight at the moon and says, "Goodnight, Chuck."_

**Los Angeles, California**

**Casa de Chuck**

**February 14, 2009**

**9:00 PM**

"That's the night the kid lost himself to Charles Carmichael, smooth and emotionless Carmichael."

Tears find their way to her eyes and they crash to the floor, gravity pulling them to the ground. Standing up, she turns around, only stopping when she hears Casey's voice.

"Walker, help him out. The longer he goes, the more Chuck Bartowski will be gone. Don't let it happen. I'm begging you Walker, help him."

All she can do is nod her head and run off to the bathroom for a second time, her heart going out towards Chuck Bartowski. Finally feeling decent, she makes her way down the hall again and towards his room, only to hear soft sounds coming through the doorway. The sounds of guitar playing come through, the sound causing her to lean against the wall and forget what she is there for. She soon slips further down the wall until she is finally in a sitting position and she falls asleep outside his room, her head lolling against the wall.

The door opens, revealing a Chuck and he looks to his right, finding Sarah Walker sitting there asleep. Sighing, he looks down at her, painful memories of that night replaying in his mind. He winces as they replay in his mind, but he manages to break out of it and come to his senses.

Sighing once more, he leans over and picks her up and moves into his room. Gently lowering her down onto his bed, he ghosts a kiss over her forehead. She lets out a sigh in her sleep and a peaceful smile finds its way to her face.

Her face is so peaceful, so unsullied and serene. Looking at her face, he can still see her beauty after all that time.

Moving his way to the door, he whispers, "Goodnight, Sarah."

He exits the room, leaving her in the darkness of the bedroom.

***

When she comes to, she finds herself in a bed, _his_ bed. She looks over to her right and sees a guitar and a page with notes written all over it. Picking up the piece of paper, she reads the title, "Harder Than You Know," by Escape the Fate. Reading over the lyrics, she begins to cry and at the bottom, she sees a note left for her.

"You know where I am if you want to talk."

Quickly sitting up, she exits the room to go find her things and realizes that she has no way to get there. Casey looks up from his spot on the couch and notices her distress. Reaching into his pocket he tosses her the keys and says, "Save him, Walker."

She nods and runs out the door. Yanking open the door, she puts the key into the ignition and flies out of the parking lot and drives towards the beach.

***

**The Beach**

**Their Spot**

**February 14, 2009**

**11:00 PM**

She walks barefoot over the beach, the sand cold beneath her feet. She shivers at the cold air and she spots a lone figure down at the shoreline, legs crossed staring out into the surf. Forgetting the cold, she runs over and stops directly behind him and he gives no indication that he knows she's there. Instead of waiting for an answer, she sits down far enough that there can be contact, which she hoped for. They sit together and look out into the surf, neither wanting to start the conversation.

Sighing, he finally gives in, and he asks the simple questions, "Why?"

She looks over him, and looking into his eyes, she sees the unbridled want to know the answer to the question. She stays silent which causes him to turn his head back to watch the surf.

She can't take the silence between them anymore and asks back, "Why?"

"You didn't answer mine, so why should I answer yours?"

The voice is cold and calculating, far from the warmth and cheeriness she is use to hearing.

She looks down once again and she cannot articulate any words to say. He grunts angrily and stands up, walking off towards the parking lot, leaving her alone on the beach. Stopping a few feet away, he says over his shoulder, "Not much of a talk. Granted, you were never good with words."

He continues his brisk walk to his bike and she hears him gun the motorcycle. It zooms out of the parking lot and she is left alone, her thoughts swirling in her head.

Pulling out her phone, she dials a number into her phone.

"I'd like to be reassigned."

***

When she gets home, it is well past 1:00 AM and she walks down the hall, finding the door to his room open. She sees his guitar lying there on his chair and she sees a lump on his bed. Reaching inside, she closes the door and it closes with a click.

Leaning against the door, she whispers, "Goodnight, Chuck."

_A/N: So there's the second chapter. Hope you enjoyed. R&R. Goodnight._


	3. Good Morning

_Disclaimer: Standard stuff. Don't own anything. Still wish I did though._

_A/N: Too lazy to write one. Here's chapter three.  
_

**Salutations and Greetings**

**Good Morning**

**Los Angeles, California**

**Casa de Chuck**

**February 15, 2009**

**6:00 AM**

She opens her eyes and looks at the alarm clock.

It reads: 6:00 AM.

Too early, so she tries to close her eyes again, but to no avail, she finds that sleep will not come back. With a sigh and a huff, she swings her legs over the side and gingerly makes her way to a standing position. Yawning, she makes her way to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Hopping into the shower, she adjusts the knob, the spray of the warm water runs down her body cleansing her body of the night before, but not the memories.

She steps out of the shower and begins to shiver, the sudden change of temperature chilling her to the bone. Quickly wrapping herself in a towel, she walks back into the room to find herself some clothes. She reaches into the closet and finds a simple pairing of a Tee shirt and a pair of jeans.

Finally dressed, she walks out to find a tall figure with curly brown hair hunched over at the kitchen table, newspaper and coffee in hand.

"Good morning."

A grunt is heard, much like Casey's, in answer to get greeting. Sighing, she walks into the kitchen only to find a full on breakfast at hand. Fried bacon still warm from the pan, scrambled eggs, and some hash brown bites sit on the counter, waiting for anybody to put their hands on them.

She didn't know whether to eat them or not, so she decides to ask, "Umm, Chuck?"

Sensing her question, he doesn't even raise his head from the paper and responds with a short, "Go ahead."

Feeling the hunger in her stomach, she moves over to the cabinet, not knowing which one holds the plates. She squints her face in annoyance and he some how notices her distress.

"Top left cabinet is for the plates. You'll find forks and spoons on the bottom left."

Turning around, she still finds him looking at his paper deeply and she wonders at how he knew. Taking his advice, she opens up the directed cabinets, and ta da, there they are in perfect order.

Filling her plate, she hopes to catch him by the table, but he is no longer there when she walks back out of the kitchen. Looking around, she finds him in the back, surfboard in hand as he walks through the home. He moves hastily, the board bumping into things as he walks through the house. Finally reaching the back, he loads it on to the SUV and takes off towards the beach already dressed in his wet suit.

Sighing, she turns back to her food and is joined by Rachel at the table.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, Agent Walker."

"No need for formalities here," she says, offering a weak smile.

Rachel returns a smile and they continue their breakfast in silent, the clinking of silverware against the plate the only sound heard.

"At the beginning of the assignment, I thought my talents were going to be wasted babysitting an asset, but it turned out to be one my more enjoyable ones."

Little did Rachel know, Sarah had felt the same feelings for the assignment. Finding it boring, but as it wore on, she found it quite to be her favorite assignment out of all she has done. The thoughts bring back memories that flood her brain with sensations of better times. She sighs, but Rachel doesn't notice.

"At first, I saw Chuck as some lanky, no motivation nerd, but as I began to work with him, I found him to be quite the character. Loving, loyal, honest, things you don't find very often in the world now a days, let alone in an agent."

Sarah knew firsthand the effects of those traits on people, herself included. She smiles as Rachel reiterates his qualities to her.

"I tried to put the moves on him, ya know?"

She blanched at the statements, her face going tense and her hands gripping the table until her knuckles turn white. Rachel is oblivious to Sarah's change in demeanor.

"He shot me down every time. Of course, I didn't understand why he wasn't interested. I almost thought he was gay."

Sarah can only smile at the admission. Her body relaxes and she revels in the pleasure that he hasn't been seeing anyone since she left.

"I only figured out a couple months later about your disappearing act and I finally understood why he wasn't reacting to my feminine wiles. He was still hung up on you."

"The only thing is I don't understand why you would give him up for a job. He's loving, caring, honest, everything that is anti-Larkin. I don't know what you see in Larkin, but you made a mistake by leaving Chuck. That's just my take on it, but it's up to you to salvage the situation."

She sits up, exiting the room leaving Sarah alone once again to her own devices. Sarah ducks her head as she takes in Rachel's words. Chuck definitely is the opposite of Bryce, caring and honest. What about now though? What has she done to get rid of that? Sighing, she stands up and puts away the food, rinsing the bowls and putting them into the dishwasher.

Moving out of the room, she goes into the garage, only to find her midnight black Porsche 911 Turbo waiting for her. She smiles fondly at it, the sight giving her a familiar feeling. The feeling is fleeting as she remembers what's going on around her at the moment. Hopping in, she drives to the beach to clear her thoughts, and maybe, no definitely, go watch Chuck surf.

**The Beach**

**Their Spot**

**February 15, 2009**

**7:30 AM**

She sits down on _their_ spot, the spot where she asked him to trust her. Memories of that day flood into her brain, their first "real" date. She was on the rebound those couple days, finding that Bryce had gone rogue. The assignment back then wasn't ideal, but it sure was an eye opener for her. She really let loose that night. She hadn't had that much fun in a long time, even her missions hadn't been that fun.

The kicker was when he said he could be her baggage handler. She nearly choked on her food at his words, and she wondered in her mind what it would be like to have met him randomly on the street or out getting coffee. She put those thoughts away as always, and focused back on the mission at hand. What a night that turned out to be.

Looking up, she finds him coming back in from the ocean, water dripping from his hair. His once lanky frame is now filled out, muscles showing in his pectorals and his arms are defined under his wetsuit. She takes in the sight of his new body, shuddering at his muscles. She just wants to feel them, but she realizes she had lost that privilege when she left. She sighs and watches him make his retreat to his car. He drives off, leaving her alone on the sand. Getting up, she moves to her Porsche and drives back to his house.

**Los Angeles, California**

**Casa de Chuck**

**February 15, 2009**

**8:30 AM**

Walking into the living room, she finds Casey beckoning to her to follow him. She follows him into Chuck's room where she finds Rachel and Chuck already sitting down and chatting. A twang of jealousy sparks in her heart, but she pushes it down and focuses on the screen.

The chatter dies down as Beckman's face appears on the screen.

"Good morning team. New intel points to a Fulcrum presence at a party in the heart of Los Angeles tomorrow night. Fulcrum plans on brokering a drug deal to fund themselves. It is the task of you four to stop that."

"Yes ma'am."

"Agents Walker and Bartowski will be attending as a couple while Major Casey will play bartender. Agent Locke will be manning the surveillance van. If no further questions, this meeting is over."

None are had and Beckman clicks off the screen, leaving the four agents to stew about the new mission. Casey and Locke leave, leaving Sarah and Chuck in the room, each looking down at the ground, neither knowing how to react at the idea of them working together again.

He looks up at her, her head still bent forward looking down and he sighs and walks out the door, leaving her alone.

Finally getting around to leaving, she walks out to once again hear the sounds of his guitar coming from the room. She sits against the door and listens to it, falling asleep once again to the sounds of his guitar playing.

_A/N: R&R_


	4. Good Afternoon

_Disclaimers: Standard stuff again. My status hasn't changed in the last couple hours, so I still don't own Chuck. I heard there might be a January/February start date though. AWESOME!_

_A/N: I got tired of watching college football, so I decided to put write a short chapter for you guys. First song is "Map of the Problematique," by Muse. The second song is "The Adventure," by Angels and Airwaves. Both songs are awesome, and so are the bands._

**Salutations and Greetings**

**Good Afternoon**

**Los Angeles, California**

**Casa de Chuck**

**February 15, 2009**

**12:00 PM**

She wakes up to the sounds of guitar playing coming from the room next to her. Sitting up, she wipes the sleep from her eyes and swings her legs over the bed and stands up. The guitar playing begins to increase in its tempo, the notes coming quicker and faster. She becomes entranced in the song and she wanders down the hall, following the source to the door. Opening it, she finds Chuck, back turned to the door, electric guitar connected to the amp, sitting in his laps. She can see his arms move while he plucks at the strings, the noise vibrating throughout the room.

Sensing she is there, he begins to sing. His voice permeates the room, bouncing all over the walls. It reaches Sarah's ears, her ears perking up at the sound of his voice.

_Fear  
And panic in the air  
I want to be free  
From desolation and despair  
And I feel  
Like everything I saw  
Is being swept away  
When I refuse to let you go_

_I can't get it right  
Get it right  
Since I met you_

_Loneliness be over  
When will this loneliness be over?_

_Life  
Will flash before my eyes  
So scattered and lost  
I want to touch the other side  
And no one  
Thinks they are to blame  
Why can't we see  
That when bleed we bleed the same?_

_I can't get it right  
Get it right  
Since I met you_

_Loneliness be over  
When will this Loneliness be over?_

_Loneliness be over  
When will this Loneliness be over?_

As he finishes, tears begin to freefall from her face and she has to call on all her CIA training to stop from slumping to the ground. Chuck finally turns around, his face showing no emotions, but his eyes betray him. She can see the sorrow in them, the hurt of her disappearance.

Taking a deep breath, she looks up and hardens her face, moving across the room to sit next to him on the bed. He doesn't respond, but he looks back down at his guitar and begins to play again, starting off slow. His fingers move across the fret, and his other hand strums the strings, clean and crisps sounds erupting from the amplifiers. She listens attentively and then she hears his voice again. His voice overtakes the sounds of the guitar, his voice reaching her ears.

_I wanna have the same last dream again _

_The one where I wake up and I'm alive _

_Just as the four walls close me within _

_My eyes are open up with pure sunlight _

_I'm the first to know _

_My dearest friends _

_Even if your hope has burned with time _

_Anything that is dead shall be re-grown _

_And your vicious pain, your warning sign _

_You will be fine _

_Hey oh here I am _

_And here we go _

_Life's waiting to begin _

_Any type of love it will be showed_

_Like every single tree reach for the sky _

_If you're gonna fall _

_I'll let you know _

_That I will pick you up _

_Like you for I _

_I felt this thing _

_I can't replace _

_When everyone was working for this goal _

_Where all the children left without a trace _

_Only to come back as pure as gold _

_To recite this all _

_Hey oh here I am _

_And here we go _

_Life's waiting to begin _

_Tonight _

_Hey oh here I am _

_And here we go _

_Life's waiting to begin _

_Tonight _

_Hey oh here I am _

_And here we go _

_Life's waiting to begin _

_I can not live _

_I can't breathe _

_Unless you do this with me _

_I can not live _

_I can't breathe _

_Unless you do this with me _

_I can not live _

_I can't breathe _

_Unless you do this with me _

_I can not live _

_I can't breathe _

_Unless you do this with me _

_I can not live _

_I can't breathe _

_Unless you do this with me _

_I can not live _

_I can't breathe _

_Unless you do this with me _

_Hey oh, here I am (do this with me) _

_Here we go _

_Life's waiting to begin (do this with me) _

_Hey oh, here I am (do this with me) _

_Here we go _

_Life's waiting to begin _

_Life's waiting to begin _

Once again, more tears begin to fall at his beautiful singing, the songs striking her heart strings. His shoulders begin to slump and the guitar hangs from the shoulder strap. His neck bends forward and he looks at the ground, neither knowing what to say.

"Chuck… I…"

"You don't have to say anything Sarah."

He leans over and gives her a chaste kiss on the lips. It is short and fleeting and Sarah is disappointed at its length. It's the first real reaction she has gotten from him since he and Casey saved her. He stands up, not looking at her, his head pointed to the ground.

"Just give me time Sarah. I'll figure this out."

He leaves the room, leaving Sarah alone with his guitar. She picks it up, admiring the guitar. Examining it, she squints and reads the words, "For Sarah," down the side of it. Her eyes tear up at the revelation; the guitar is dedicated to her.

She sets the guitar down and says to the empty room, "I'll give you as much time as you need."

_A/N: I did the best I could to fit the lyrics. Apparenly I lost. Oh well, I'm too tired to try and fix it anymore. Short and sweet. R&R.  
_


	5. Good Evening

_Disclaimer: I do not own Chuck, the song, or Blink 182. Although I wish I owned Blink 182, Chuck too._

**Salutations and Greetings**

**Good Evening**

**Los Angeles, California**

**The Party**

**February 16, 2009**

**9:00 PM**

As Chuck calls in the clean up crew to take care of the Fulcrum agents littering the floor, one sits up and extracts a pistol from his waistband and points it at Sarah. Turning around, he notices the man and runs towards Sarah, pushing her out of the way. The force of his push gets her out of the way, but not before the Fulcrum agent pulls the trigger, the bullet flying into Chuck's abdomen. Casey returns gunfire, killing the man, while Chuck hunches over and falls to the ground grasping his stomach. Blood seeps through his hands and onto the floor, dying it a crimson red. He begins to cough up blood, the signs of internal injuries.

Getting up, Sarah rushes to his side and hunches over him, gripping his hands in hers. Silent tears flow down her cheek and onto the floor, mixing with his blood.

"Chuck…" she says, trailing off at the end.

"Sarah… Always… By… Blink… One… Eighty… Two…" he manages to puff out between his fits of coughing.

His eyes begin to close and she squeezes his hand tighter, trying to keep him awake.

"Stay with me Chuck. You're not going to die on me!" she shouts, her voice ripe with emotion.

"Well… for once… I'm saving you," he laughs, more blood spilling from his mouth.

She gives him a weak smile, "Come on Chuck. Stay with me."

"Always… Sarah," he says, voice dyeing out.

He closes his eyes and descends into the black, the dark engulfing him in its grasp. His breathing begins to regulate out, and she squeezes his hand a little tighter, willing him to wake up. When he doesn't, she turns around and finds the medical team entering the building.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!" she screams at the team, who disregards her and continues to work on Chuck.

Loading him onto a stretcher, they move him into an ambulance. Hopping in, she immediately grasps his hands again, holding onto them like an anchor. The medics continue to work on him, cleaning his wound and assessing damage.

They finally reach the hospital where they force Sarah to let go of Chuck's hand. She watches on as they rush Chuck into the ER for immediate surgery.

Hours later finds Sarah sitting with her head in her hands in the waiting room. She is eager to hear any information when Casey walks into the waiting room. She looks up to find the hulking man sitting next to her.

"What's happening Casey?"

"He just got out of surgery. He'll be okay. Kid won't be up until tomorrow morning. Room 33."

Her heart leaps with the news that he is going to be okay, "Thank you, Casey."

All he does is grunt and stands up, exiting the room, leaving her to go find Chuck. Moving down the hallway, she stops and looks through the window. He looks so peaceful, so undeterred. She smiles at the sight and makes her way inside. Sitting in the chair next to him, she holds his hand and looks at the table, finding his iPhone.

Picking it up, she scrolls through his set of music and finds what she is looking for.

She turns on the song, plugging the earphones in and stuffing them in her ears. She continues to hold his hand and closes her eyes, surrendering to the music coming through.

_I've been here before a few times  
And I'm quite aware we're dying  
And your hands they shake with goodbyes  
And I'll take you back if you'd have me  
So here I am I'm trying  
So here I am are you ready_

Come on let me hold you touch you feel you  
Always  
Kiss you taste you all night  
Always

And I'll miss your laugh your smile  
I'll admit I'm wrong if you'd tell me  
I'm so sick of fights I hate them  
Lets start this again for real

So here I am I'm trying  
So here I am are you ready  
So here I am I'm trying  
So here I am are you ready

Come on let me hold you touch you feel you  
Always  
Kiss you taste you all night  
Always  
Come on let me hold you touch you feel you  
Always  
Kiss you taste you all night  
Always

I've been here before a few times  
And I'm quite aware we're dying

Come on let me hold you touch you feel you  
Always  
Kiss you taste you all night  
Always  
Come on let me hold you touch you feel you  
Always  
Kiss you taste you all night  
Always  
Always  
Always 

She smiles as she listens to the lyrics. Pulling out the earphones, she lays her head on his chest, and falls asleep with a smile plastered on her face.

_A/N: Short chapter. LOVE BLINK 182! R&R._


End file.
